The Cruel Radiance: Photography and Political Violence

by Susie Linfield

Since the early days of photography, critics have told us that photos of political violence—of torture, mutilation, and death—are exploitative, deceitful, even pornographic. To look at these images is voyeuristic; to turn away is a gesture of respect.

With The Cruel Radiance, Susie Linfield attacks those ideas head-on, arguing passionately that viewing such photographs—and learning to see the people in them—is an ethically and politically necessary act that connects us to our modern history of violence and probes our capacity for cruelty. Contending with critics from Walter Benjamin and Bertolt Brecht to Susan Sontag and the postmoderns—and analyzing photographs from such events as the Holocaust, China’s Cultural Revolution, and recent terrorist acts—Linfield explores the complex connection between photojournalism and the rise of human rights ideals. In the book’s concluding section, she examines the indispensable work of Robert Capa, James Nachtwey, and Gilles Peress, and asks how photography has—and should—respond to the increasingly nihilistic trajectory of modern warfare.

A bracing and unsettling book, The Cruel Radiance convincingly demonstrates that if we hope to alleviate political violence, we must first truly understand it—and to do that, we must begin to look.

Genres: Photography, Nonfiction, Art, Politics, History, Journalism, War

344 pages, Hardcover

First published November 1, 2010

Reviews

[Jean-Marie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Because I was a photographer and most of my work was documentary-based -- homeless women; Puerto Rican migrant workers; and eight years in Guatemala -- I wanted to love this book and to a degree I did. Susie Linfield's examination of photojournalism is an earnest and intelligent effort to explain its role in the search for truth, impact and, often, horror. The author likewise offers an unjaundiced critique of the photojournalists whose exploits propel them to demi-god status among editors, the non-profits who fund them, and the NYU undergraduates who aim to change the world with a Nikon and a Domke bag.

Unfortunately Linfield exaggerates the power of photography and does not explore sufficiently its limitations or how it necessarily must interface with the printed word. In explaining war, Linfield states that "photographers have done a better job of documenting [conflicts] than have journalists, who sometimes ignore them...." This is not fair: The power of photography lies in its ability to provoke or coerce an immediate reaction or to make someone see something new, or something old in a new light, instantaneously. The power of the printed word is cumulative, and Linfield needed to explore more judiciously the synergy of print and image.

Ironically, the author's over-estimation of photography is summarized by Linfield herself, in Chapter Two. "It is impossible," she writes, "to imagine transnational groups such as Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, or Doctors Without Borders in the pre-photographic age." The statement is short-sighted if not naive, and it makes Linfield herself sound under-equipped to value the themes of her own book. Examples that contradict this statement abound, even up to just a few decades ago, when photography became cheap and accessible. Throughout the 1970s, for example, Amnesty International issued "Urgent Action" appeals on behalf of thousands of political prisoners languishing in anonymous cells worldwide, and the tens of thousands of individuals who wrote on their behalf, urging their release, did not require the power of emulsion to do so.

[Holly · Rating 4 out of 5]

Academic and erudite, and yet there is not one graceless sentence in this thought-provoking work of criticism -- this will be one of the finest books I read all year. Linfield interrogates the photos and photographers from the Warsaw Ghetto, China's Cultural Revolution, the wars of Sierra Leone, the Abu Ghraib photographs, Capa's Spanish Civil War images, James Nachtwey's controversial photos, and Gilles Peress's work. She responds to and challenges postmodern photography criticism (esp. Sontag); addresses the desensitization argument; considers our responsibilities as viewers and the moral implications of viewing photographs of violence; thinks about what photographs can and cannot reveal; and deftly explains how war and political violence shifted over the twentieth-century to today's conflicts of senseless violence and contradictory ideology.

Just a few notes:
Regarding how one looks at the Khmer Rouge's portraits of those who were about the be killed: "Looking at these doomed people is not a form of exploitation; forgetting them is not a form of respect." [p 59] On the wrongheaded idea of identifying with victims in photographs, Linfield explains that the opposite is the case: we can mourn, bear witness, learn from; but that should not be mistaken for closeness. "We cannot become the prisoners of S-21 any more than we can save them; it would be inexcusable to imagine that we can or did."

On photographs of the Warsaw Ghetto and concentration camps by SS and by Jews: that the context of a photo is as important -- sometimes more important -- than the photo itself. What context and the photographer's identity reveal (the story inside and behind the photo). E.g. the four photographs made clandestinely by the Sonderkommandos at Auschwitz: the fact that they were made is more significant than what they show/represent. They depict "a moment when the most defiled of men stepped back into humanity: into decision, into visibility, into a demand that the civilized world see the genocide and account for it." How we look at photographs by Nazis and not have the reactions that the Nazis intended - rather to see Nazi barbarism. "while these photoraphs say something about the Jews -- something, that is, about the war of annihilation waged against them -- they say quite a bit more about their German conquerers." [p71].

[Erin · Rating 4 out of 5]

so i thought after a big run of depressing non fiction about kidnappings in japan, zimbabwe, blood diamonds in sierra leone that this would somehow be a less heavy read. i was very wrong.

it was, however, a great follow-up to all of that reading, considering the focus on sierra leone and other places where violence and by proxy photography of said violence has been made. the language susie linfield uses to discuss the photographs, the photographers, as well as photo criticism, is beautiful and i loved that part. at some points, though, reading another description of violence felt exhausting.

BUT i am of the school of thought that looking at these images is necessary if you want any kind of perspective on the world we actually live in, and agreed with a lot of the points made. the only difficult section was that of the people/photographers - robert capa, james nachtwey and gilles peress. capa seemed so romanticized and nachtwey almost demonized that it was difficult to have my own perspective and not be clouded by her thoughts.

anyway. more than worth the read. made me miss graduate school as most things do.

[Noelle Sullivan · Rating 5 out of 5]

A compelling, difficult book for that narrow sliver of the reading public obsessed (or at least captivated) by documentary photography. Linfield answers earlier essayists (Sontag, Barthes) as she dissects troubling images of conflict and inhumanity, wondering about their value. Focusing on the makers of such images and trusting their motives, Linfield offers a complicated, hopeful argument for grace and solidarity arising from even terrifying views.

[Caroline Geer]

no rating for this it must be experienced. i’ve never read an author contradict themself so much

[Vaughn · Rating 4 out of 5]

A collection of academic essays develop Linfield's idea that violent photography does in fact has utility for modernity. Some chapters are a response to well-known treatises of Sontag and Baudelaire, while others examine topical (the Holocaust) or biographical (Capa, Nachtwey) works.

I value Linfield's book both for its standalone argument AND as a collection/reference-point for theories of contemporary photojournalism. I'm very familiar with Nachtwey's work, but it's nice to hear an academic's take on how the formal qualities transcend the visceral and into the "why should we care" reasoning.

Book reads well because of its varied nature. Starts off with a survey of traditional photographer criticism, then dives into modern theory and biography. Tough to read at times because of the subject matter - I found I was bogged down by the sadness implicit to the works Linfield studies.

Only complaint about book is that it contains lots of descriptions of photographs and not enough physical reproductions. Found myself reading with a laptop so I could reference certain collections of images quickly.

[Noelle]

Three art history classes in one semester wasn't smart. This book was for my History of American Photography class which was interesting and enjoyable. The book (which we had to review in a 5page paper) on the other hand was not enjoyable. It touched the sad, terrible, depressing subject histories and I had to put it down and walk away a few times. No don't get me wrong I didn't hate the book. Nor did I love it. I found it interesting and will probably reread it because I feel it had alot of information I probably missed. But I also feel Linfield had three great book ideas to educate and inform and rather then expand on all three and make them focused and informational she shoved half the formation of each into one book. She could have expanded more on each of the three sections 'Polmonics', 'People' and 'Places' I feel she took the easy way out rather then doing three books. Maybe she can get it better later.

[Sarah Esh · Rating 4 out of 5]

In clear-eyed detail and acknowledgment of the unanswerable nature of the questions she raises, Susie Linfield explores the purpose behind photographs of atrocities and whether photography can ever further human rights.

I read this as a part of my grad school class; I was only assigned four chapters, but I chose to read it in its entirety. Linfield has a clear voice as she examines human rights, photography, and the intersection between the two. After setting out her foundational understanding, she closely examines four "places" (Warsaw, Lodz, Auschwitz; China; Sierra Leone; and Abu Gharib) and three people (Robert Capa, James Nachtwey, and Gilles Peress) as case studies for the questions she raises in the beginning. Her discussion of the ethics on either side of the camera is thorough and revealing, particularly as she examines the whys behind our reluctance to look at difficult images. Her main argument is that we should look, that to look away is to be complicit and silent in the face of evil, though she admits when her belief falters, when even she cries, "Too much!"

For a book about photography, there are few photographs; much of what we would know is based on Linfield's descriptions. Even so, those descriptions are often all I need as I wince away from the words. As heavy as this read is, I found it compelling, as well as educational (considering how little I knew about both the Cultural Revolution in China and the genocide in Bosnia). However, a classmate of mine pointed out her Western biases in her discussion of Middle East affairs; these political biases are one major flaw to the text. She does not hide them, but they can still be hidden to a reader with the same blind spots. As a history book, it is therefore incomplete, but as a text examining humanity's capacity for cruelty and its desire to expose them, as a text that interrogates the role of photography in the modern age, it is an excellent read.

[Andrea Samorini · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Forse persino gli dei sono depravati"
James Nachtwey

"Il presente è passato irrisolto"

___________________________________
WANT TO READ BOOK:
- Colore rosso soldato di notizie. L'odissea di un fotografo cinese attraverso la rivoluzione culturale (Li Zhensheng, Jacques Menasche)
- La condizione umana (André Malraux)
- Sul guardare (John Berger)
- Leggermente fuori fuoco: slightly out of focus (Robert Capa)
- La forza dell'empatia. Una storia dei diritti dell’uomo (Lynn Hunt)

[Hanh Do · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pretty amazing books to read if you are interested in history & sociology. Though-provoking on to what is the purpose of photography and which is its limitation.
One drawback is that it explains many photos but do not include them inside (maybe because of copyrights)?

[Jose · Rating 3 out of 5]

In theory very good when abstaining from problematic political views.

[Brian Page · Rating 5 out of 5]

We are the human species: we kill one another for no appreciable reason. It’s what sets us apart from the animals. It is what we do. It is what defines our humanity. Would that it were not so.

Susie Linfield in THE CRUEL RADIANCE: PHOTOGRAPHY AND POLITICAL VIOLENCE wrestles with this question: given that moral progress is a thoroughly discredited fairy tale, are photographers benefiting from, or even party to, exploitation of victims of political violence?

TCR is a deep and important critique that should be mandatory reading for every journalist, not just photographers, not just for conflict journalists; for when do whiskers become a beard? If it is taboo to photograph the bloody corpse of a child whose head has been half blown away by shrapnel, how about shooting the homeless, or car wreck victims, or dump scavengers? For the question of exploitation is not just a matter for the James Nachtweys of the world. “Photojournalists are responsible for the ethics of showing, but we are responsible for the ethics of seeing.” (p. 60)

[Scotch · Rating 2 out of 5]

A little reactionary, and felt a wee bit dichotomizing in not fully exploring the two arguments about photographs of violence (her own, against those of Sekula, Sontag, etc). Linfield also focused on one particular use and read of these images: calls to action or empathy for ethical good, regardless of the photographer/photograph's original intent. In a way, this misses something fairly important: the use of photographs of political violence as war propaganda, and the dangers of further polarizing proponents/opponents of war, citizens/government, us/them that doesn't really get at the complexities of war, the true horror of its violence (see Roeder's The Censored War). The latter photographer-specific chapters felt less engaging. Still, a worthwhile argument for the importance of these kinds of images, and the ethical need for empathy and understanding – something we may or may not find in photography.

[Brandon Wu · Rating 4 out of 5]

A competent defense of documentary photographs of atrocity and violence. Linfield convincingly rejects arguments that such photos desensitize us to violence or are inherently exploitative or pornographic, while recognizing the limitations of photographs in that they are unable to provide us with context or a broader narrative. Includes fascinating case studies of the Holocaust, Cultural Revolution, civil war in Sierra Leone, and Abu Ghraib, as well as profiles of Robert Capa, James Nachtwey and Gilles Perres. A nuanced but passionately argued work.

[Lambert · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very interesting book that sort of works the sunnier side of the street in comparison with Susan Sontag. A good book about photography and especially documentary photography. It deals with photographs of very unpleasant things and the issue of "what should we see?" Kind of slow going, but needs to be studied not just read. I see this as a valuable addition to the history and criticism of photography.

[Ken · Rating 5 out of 5]

Deeply persuasive. The best book that I have read on contemporary documentary photographic practice, and a compelling argument for the continued centricity of human rights and human experience in that practice.

[Spencer · Rating 2 out of 5]

i admit, i just got this for the pictures (and there are hardly any)

[Kristine · Rating 2 out of 5]

😕🤔🤕😬 recently realized this author is a zionist like she wrote another book about zionism last year so 👀 two stars means something is what i’ll say